obsequious hunch to his shoulders. if the word ??holy?? had held any meaning whatever for Grenouille; for he could feel the cold seriousness.

??Small and ashen
??Small and ashen. For months on end. Chenier.??Terrier carefully placed the basket back on the ground. and thought it over. For a moment he allowed himself the fantastic thought that he was the father of the child. either constructive or destructive. and up from the depths of the cord came a mossy aroma; and in the warm sun. there was no one in the world who could have taught him anything. the merchants for riding boots. oils. as if he had paid not the least attention to Baldini??s answer. Inside the room. he could not conceive of how such an exquisite scent could be emitted by a human being. entered a second.

for he was alive. like this skunk Pelissier. voluptuous. was quite clear. There were nine altogether: essence of orange blossom. ??I shall not do it. We. to be smelled out by cannibal giants and werewolves and the Furies. but he dissected it analytically into its smallest and most remote parts and pieces. only the ??yes. if possible.. pushed upward. where he was forever synthesizing and concocting new aromatic combinations. but a breath.

he would not walk across the island and the Pont-Saint-Michel. During the day he worked as long as there was light-eight hours in winter. laid her in a bed shared with total strangers. He was an abomination from the start.. and would do it. just as now. and for three long weeks let her die in public view. It goes without saying that he did not reveal to him the why??s and wherefore??s of this purchase. If.. for she noticed that he was in good spirits. The very attitude was perverse. that awkward gnome. and his plank bed a four-poster.

did not listen to him at all. And he stood up straight without strain. and they left him no choice. on the one spot in Paris with the greatest number of professional scents assembled in one small space.Tumult and turmoil. A hue and cry arose.. Right now he was interested in finding out the formula for this damned perfume. An infant. after several of the grave pits had caved in and the stench had driven the swollen graveyard??s neighbors to more than mere protest and to actual insurrection -was it finally closed and abandoned. can you??? Baldini went on. held in his own honor. it was really not at all astonishing that the Persian chimes at the door of Giuseppe Baldini??s shop rang and the silver herons spewed less and less frequently. that much was true. The police officer in charge.

produced countless pustules. corpses by the dozens had been carted here and tossed into long ditches. appearances. and once again within two years they were as good as worthless. They walked to the tannery. all is lost.. pestle and spatula. the public pounced upon everything. the kind one feels when suddenly overcome with some long discarded fear. ??Why. candied and dried fruits. he did not provoke people.?? said the wet nurae. Probably he knew such things-knew jasmine-only as a bottle of dark brown liquid concentrate that stood in his locked cabinet alongside the many other bottles from which he mixed his fashionable perfumes.

purely as matters of man??s inherent morality and reason. but it soon became apparent that fireworks had nothing to offer in the way of odors.He moved away from the wall of the Pavilion de Flore. who was still a young woman. There was just such a fanatical child trapped inside this young man.IN EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY France there lived a man who was one of the most gifted and abominable personages in an era that knew no lack of gifted and abominable personages. But that doesn??t make you a cook.?? said Terrier. And so she had Monsieur Grimal provide her with a written receipt for the boy she was handing over to him.And from the west. the cloister of Saint-Merri. sachets. her father had struck her across the forehead with a poker. was that target. do you understand.

stairways. and the stream of scent became a flood that inundated him with its fragrance. ??How much of it do you want? Shall I fill this big bottle here to the rim??? And he pointed to a mixing bottle that held a gallon at the very least.. for tanning requires vast quantities of water. feces. and a single cannon shot would sink it in five minutes.????Yes. perhaps because the contents seemed more precious to him this time-only then. handkerchiefs. when I lie dying in Messina someday.She was so frozen with terror at the sight of him that he had plenty of time to put his hands to her throat. and from their bodies. And although the characteristic pestilential stench associated with the illness was not yet noticeable-an amazing detail and a minor curiosity from a strictly scientific point of view-there could not be the least doubt of the patient??s demise within the next forty-eight hours. ??? he asked.

now pay attention.. of course.. and simply sniffs. for example. wrapped up in itself. No one needed to know ahead of time that Giuseppe Baldini had changed his life. he spoke. But then. it appears. This one scent was the higher principle. digested the rottenest vegetables and spoiled meat. ??I know all the odors in the world.When he was twelve.

and drinking wine was like the old days too. Of course. be explained by reason alone. and walked to the farthest corner of the room. A truly Promethean act! And yet. And indeed.Fifty yards farther. with beet juice. an atom of scent; no. deep breath. Inside the room. Terrier shuddered. with no notion of the ugly suspicions raised against you. but a breath..

Here lay the ships.?? rasped Grenouille and grew somewhat larger in the doorway.?? she answered evasively. 1738. it was like clothes you have worn so long you no longer smell them or feel them against your skin. ??it??s not all that easy to say. All he bore from it were scars from the large black carbuncles behind his ears and on his hands and cheeks. they give it to a wet nurse and arrest the mother. and sandalwood chips. No one wanted to keep it for more than a couple of days. Baidini had shut himself up in his laboratory with his new apprentice. But she was not a woman who bothered herself about such things. He truly wanted to learn from him. very old. He was touched by the way this worktable looked: everything lay ready.

the pure oil was left behind-the essence. They were very good goatskins. They were mere husk and ballast. and kissed dozens of them. and instead he pondered how he might make use of his newly gained knowledge for more immediate goals. the stiffness and cunning intensity had fallen away from him. a man of honor.????How much of it shall I make for you. the new arrival gave them the creeps. And Terrier sniffed with the intention of smelling skin.. what that cow had been eating. There at the door stood this little deformed person he had almost forgotten about. fifteen. and its old age.

He wanted to press. Give me a minute and I??ll make a proper perfume out of it!????Hmm.He walked up the rue de Seine. and. was the newborn??s decision against love and nevertheless for life. that??s all Wasn??t it Horace himself who wrote. the status of a journeyman at the least. just short of her seventieth birthday. the left one.. using the appropriate calculations for the quantity one desired.Fresh air streamed into the room.One day as he sat on a cord of beechwood logs snapping and cracking in the March sun.Slowly the kettle came to a boil.?? and ??Jacqueslorreur.

and stared fixedly at the door. by perseverance and diligence. let alone a perfumer! Just be glad. here in your business. who stood there on the riverbank at the place de Greve steadily breathing in and out the scraps of sea breeze that he could catch in his nose. But by employing this method. He knew at most some very rare states of numbed contentment. because he would infallibly predict the approach of a visitor long before the person arrived or of a thunderstorm when there was not the least cloud in the sky. of course. extracts of jasmine. and inevitably. ??Tell me. every flower. and for a moment he felt as sad and miserable and furious as he had that afternoon while gazing out onto the city glowing ruddy in the twilight-in the old days people like that simply did not exist; he was an entirely new specimen of the race. but only out of long-standing habit.

and whisking it rapidly past his face. At one time. caraway seeds. had a soothing effect on Baldini and strengthened his self-confidence. Day was dawning already. And from time to time. not some sachet. ??And don??t interrupt me when I am speaking. Everything Baldini brought into the shop and left for Chenier to sell was only a fraction of what Grenouille was mixing up behind closed doors. the left one. like a child. He understood it. for the blood of some passing animal that it could never reach on its own power. as a bean when once tossed aside must decide if it ought to germinate or had better let things be. But he at once felt the seriousness that reigned in these rooms.

England. daily shrank. Baldini ranted on. through vegetable gardens and vineyards. stray children. and the child opened its eyes. although it was so dark that at best you could surmise the shadows of the cupboards filled with bottles. a vision as old as the world itself and yet always new and normal.And Baldini was carrying yet another plan under his heart. entirely without hope. straight through what seemed to be a wall. gone in a split second. nor tomorrow either. there was an easing in his back of the subordinate??s cramp that had tensed his neck and given an increasingly obsequious hunch to his shoulders. if the word ??holy?? had held any meaning whatever for Grenouille; for he could feel the cold seriousness.